


Genesis

by hedaandtheheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 20:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12154464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedaandtheheart/pseuds/hedaandtheheart
Summary: Clarke and Madi are prisoners, held captive by a fierce new power.Time (and food) is running out for Octavia and Wonkru.Raven may have just crash landed on an island miles away from Polis.Bellamy is dying.And someone just took the flame.***(Fair Warning: The thirteen chapters will read as thirteen "episodes". Because this medium lacks the audio/visual elements that an actual TV episode would include, I will be including chapter playlists that are meant to set defining moods. I believe the work will read much better with background music. The chapters will be long and detailed and take place in canon The 100 universe. Its not all about Bellarke either. So sorry if thats all you care about.Trigger Warnings include: violence/seizures/sexually explicit contentas well as graphic depictions of murder and cannibalism.My twitter is @hedaandtheheart)





	Genesis

Day 2200.

Crackling. A hazy sound comes into focus. The speakers overhead pop. Blue Suede's Hooked On A Feeling pushes through the static. Bellamy smashes his face deeper into the sheets, dampened with the sweat of his nightmares. He foolishly wishes for 5 more minutes.

"Good morning, Ark Station! DJ Monty here wishing you a happy Drop Day," a voice announces.

Bellamy's eyes shoot open. Day twenty two hundred has arrived. Finally. He rolls onto his back, chest heaving with each deepening breath. Its time to take them home.

"I'm hooked on a feeling. High on believing."

He stands, sliding a blue t shirt over his waning torso. Algae causes a lot of bloat and apparantly very little muscle build. He impatiently searches for socks but to no avail. His small home in the sky box was cluttered with miscellanious junk that he thought he would take with him, to keep him company on Earth. He looks to the walls. The only cell decorated in the entire box, and he knew it must have been hers. His fingers dust the sketches, charcaol depositing onto the pad of his thumb. The halls are lit, the music echoes off the walls. They've been waiting for Raven's plans to come to fruition, and today is the day. Murphy zips past Bell, ruffling his hair.

"Goodmorning, sleeping beauty. Reyes needs you in the control center." 

"Murphy!" He skips away before Bellamy can taunt him for his jubilance. 

Bellamy's bare feet smack against the cold metal floor as he turns the corner out of his room. He smiles to himself as someone cranks up the audio. 

"Who's the DJ?" Bellamy hollers, entering the Raven Reyes Command Deck. Raven swivels around in her chair, eyes gleaming. 

"The playlist is Monty's. A little too much 1980s if you ask me," she jokes. 

"We can't all have taste, Raven," Monty shoots back. Tapping two wires together to create a vibrant spark. He removes his gloves, "Murphy knows that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Raven dares. But Monty wouldn't think of breaking the unspoken truth of Murphy's heart. Not today, not drop day.

Above their heads, the song switches to an unfamiliar melody. Bellamy listens to it swell, like the feeling inside of him longing for home. Its been 6 years since he felt a breeze, 6 years since he felt grass in his fingers, 6 years since he left Clarke. He gulps. How can he go back there? After what he's done?

"Bellamy?" Raven nudges him. Bellamy shakes his head, glazed over eyes blinking quickly. He collapses, convulsing. Raven shouts as the world falls out around him. He sees Octavia, blood pooling in her mouth, hands like knives tearing into him. He sees Lincoln, head blown out, melting into the Earth. He sees fire, climbing the trees and swallowing the mountains. He sees her. Blonde hair and bruised eyes. Mouth open wide. Only screams come out. He sees black. Blackness like nothing he has ever known. It grows deeper and darker and swallows his conciousness, every thought his brain dares to produce. 

A gasp. "Clarke!"

***

 

"Bellamy, wake up. Wake up," Raven hovers over him, eyes flooded with concern. His heart scampers back into his hollow torso, finding that familiar aching place. "You had another seizure."

"He's getting worse," Monty whispers.

"He's fine. Just needs some fresh air. That's all. Right, Bellamy?" she smiles, swallowing her doubt. Nothing can go wrong on Drop Day. He sits up slowly, wiping the cold sweat from his lip.

"Right," Bellamy nods, "Whats the plan, boss?"

And with that, Raven snaps into action. She is all plan, no thought. Like a machine, she hands out the detailed orders. Monty stays with her to run the final diagnostics. Echo, Emori and Bellamy are to pack the supplies into the rocket. Murphy and Harper are heading to the oxyginator and filling the tanks. Everything is going to plan, and for once, Bellamy feels a twinge of hope inside.

***

 

Their first unity day in space, was a special one. They spent hours raiding closets, picking out the finest clothes to go dancing in. Emori and Echo were particularly interested in the dresses. Bellamy chuckled fondly at their attempts to accessorize, with fur hats and fluffy scarves. Murphy tried on a flannel nightgown, twirling so the skirt came up lightly.

"What do you think?" He slurred, already slightly intoxicated.

"Whatever the hell you want!" Bellamy raised his glass, and the others joined in. 

"Whatever the hell we want" quickly become the motto of the night. Monty's homemade moonshine burned in the back of everyone's throats. They sang with boastful voices to 1980's rock jams and danced to 2050's techno bops. Raven even rigged the lights to strobe in the dining hall. It almost felt like a party.

In the midst of laughter, Bellamy snuck down the empty halls, following the pull of his heart. The party grew distant from him and the Earth grew closer. When he reached the window, someone was already there.

Monty stood with his forehead pressed against the cool glass, breath leaving a dense fog.

"Happy unity day, Jasper," Monty whispered.

Bellamy cleared his throat to make his presence known, approaching Monty with caution.

"And to Clarke. Our missing pieces. May we meet again," Bellamy added, raising his glass. Monty nodded wiping away a few stray tears. Bellamy's palm landed firmly on his shoulder, weighing the smaller boy down.

"Until our final journey to the ground," Monty agreed, lifting his own glass.

 

That night, the ark held its first proper funeral since they arrived. 

Echo painted their faces with Azgeda markings to symbolize mourning. She darkened the eyes with old black makeup, paled the lips. She drug her thumb between the eyebrows down to the bridge of their noses with Hot Red paint. Really, they should've used animal blood, but the art supplies cabinets had survived and Echo claimed it was a viable substitute.

Monty found an old box of Jasper's things, including a certain herb, and a mixtape of mostly Wham! songs.

Bellamy brought Clarke's father's watch from her cell. 

There was a whole ceremony. Everyone said some really nice fond things about Jasper. Raven cried for Finn. Harper set the box inside of the airlock, and together, they all floated it. It was a way to say goodbye, to close the open ends. And when Bellamy finally returned to his cell, he added a drawing of his own to Clarke's mural. A final salute, he thought.

Admittedly, he wasn't an artist. The two stick figures holding hands stood out clearly from her fantastic drawings. But they also served as a bittersweet memory of the girl who held him once. He didn't cry.

 

***

 

Day 2200, Earth

I am Wanheda," Clarke screams, shaking the bars, "I am Wanheda! You don't need Madi if you have me. Just let her go."

Her chains vibrated the entirety of the cell as she pulled at them. The box was no taller than Clarke, no wider than the rover. The shackles bound them to oposite walls. They could look out into an office or a control room of some sort and see Charmaine working. She types with ferocity on a computer unlike anything Clarke has seen. Finally, the woman seems to irk, turning delicately in her chair. She stands, smiling.

As she nears the cell, Clarke's blood boils. She can feel Madi cowering more and more, wishing she could disappear.

"Do you know who I am, Wanheda? I'm an awarded military commander with a freezer burnt ass and 800 people who need water. Any idea what I should do about that?"

"Crawl back into your hole because we don't have enough. I'm a commander too, bitch."

"Our calculations show that you have exactly enough. To last us 3 years. That's enough time to find a viable solution. We just need to secure the resources. We wouldn't want them wasted on-," Charmaine pauses, flicking her eyes to Madi.

Clarke spits, wetting her cold clean skin. Charmaine has little response to this, wiping away the gesture with a neatly folded napkin. She returns to sit in her tall padded chair, smiling fondly at Madi.

"If there's a baby, there's a daddy. Why don't you tell me what I'm gonna be fighting here, sweetie? Where's your pa and his friends with spears?" 

Madi is silent. Clarke is unsure whether she's too afraid to answer or simply doesn't understand. 

"She has no father. Its just us. Right, Madi?"

Madi nods but Charmaine seems unconvinced.

"Oh, honey. When an army of savages marches on our oasis full of guns, who do you think is going to win? Lying won't protect them," she grins, that dazzling smile.

They're interupted by a platoon of soldiers, that file into the office. They walk with such order and precision that Clarke thinks this must've been rehearsed a million times. She takes time now to analyze, to observe. They all have bluish skin and she thinks "cryo". She makes a mental note of the way they all have guns strapped at their waists and at their ankles. One young man steps forward, cool brown skin in stark contrast from Charmagne's porcelain frame. His jaw is sharp and his arms seem to flex behind his uniform. He bites down on his own words, waiting for a command. At his heel, a dog waits on its hind legs, shock collar buzzing with energy.

"Brief me," Charmaine orders. Her blonde hair is pulled into a taught ponytail, that makes her mouth stretch a thin line. 

The young man unloads a large radio, with a chunky reciever from his backpack.

"We recieved a transmission from the Indianapolis area around 0600 today," the man informs her. Clarke's mind begins buzzing. She's never heard of Indianapolis. He gives a range of coordinates, but Clarke doesn't hear them over her own beating heart.

"A message from Atlantis," Charmaine nods, turning to the radio. She clicks from station to station but only hears static.

"Polis," Madi shouts. She's spit out her gag.

"What did you say?" Charmaine turns.

"You said Polis. We can take you there. We know Polis," Madi nods, moving her face close to the bars. Her shackles clamour as she adjusts to face her cellmate. "Don't we, Clarke?"

Clarke's snapped from her deep thought and she looks to the hopeful face before her. Madi's eyes are wide with joy. Clarke could almost smile, before remembering the bars surrounding her.

"No, Madi," Clarke gasps from behind her gag, shaking her head and digging her nails deep into her palms.

"Sounds like we have our very own Sacagawea," Charmaine smiles, unlocking the door. Clarke's heart thuds wildly. She can't take them to Polis. She has no idea what these people will do to Wonkru. Her leg slides to trip the guard unlocking Madi's chains. He fumbles, dropping the keys. There's a pause, and then a violent scramble. Clarke leaps forward, and there is a ferocious barking. The dog has entered the cage. Clarke's chains pull tight, yanking her back to the wall and her shoulder rolls. She screams, ignoring the tearing in her back and going for the guard again. His hand meets her jaw. Something hot and wet clamps down on Clarke's arm and she cries out in agony. She turns to see beady black eyes, and snapping teeth. The dog's claws connect with her face, searing streaks across her skin. The soldier grabs the keys and kicks the dog away from Clarke's now mangled body. She is heaped on the floor, blood pouring out. The dog whimpers and backs away. 

"Heel," a soldier shouts, buzzing the collar. The dog falls limp outside the cage.

"Clarke," Madi whispers, a tear falling from her eye.

 

Behind them, the radio pops and the young man, Zeke, according to his name tag, turns up the volume. 

"Its on loop, Diyoza," he shouts over the voice coming in clearly now.

"If you can hear this, if you're out there, ai laik Okteivia kom Skaikru. Wonkru is alive. Wonkru is alive. Ai gaf sis au, yu laik late. If you can hear this-"

Clarke sits up, at alert. Her heart is thundering inside of her now.

"What's she saying?" Zeke asks Madi as she exits the cage, rubbing her wrists against wet eyes.

Her excitement swells again, "I know her. That's Octavia!"

"Natblida, hod op," Clarke asserts.

"English only," Charmaine orders. She is warning Clarke with a gaze of certain fury.

"Nomon, oso na breik oso kru au," Madi tries to convince her as she's pulled further from Clarke's sight.

"English only," Charmaine repeats, slapping Maddi with a force that brings her body to the ground. "Translate it."

Zeke rushes to Madi's side. The cage is shut again, seperating Clarke from the only thing she has left. Her body slams against the bars, screaming. Madi realises now what she's done. The beady eyes of Eligius watch her. Big soldiers with bigger guns and hungry smiles.

"We don't want to hurt you, Madi," Zeke explains, holding her hand, "Just translate it for us and you can go back."

Madi wipes her tears away, looking to see that her hands collected blood from her cheek. She is afraid.

"This is Octavia of the Sky People. Wonkru is alive. I need help. You are late," Madi sniffs. Clarke's screams have died into meer whimpers. Madi gulps.

"What's wonkru, Madi?" Zeke bends down, grabbing her cheeks in his hands. She focuses on him and stammers out, "G-grounders. My people. They- they're alive. Underground."

"Okay, good, Madi. We can get them out. But we need you to take us there. Can you do that?" he asks. Madi tries to look to Clarke but her head is sharply turned back.

"Can Clarke come?" She begins to cry, reality setting in. Charmaine interjects, laying a hand on Madi's shoulder.

"No, dear. Wanheda is the most useful right where we have her."

Zeke ushers Madi toward the door, turning to give Clarke a sharp wink.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Follow me @hedaandtheheart and stay tuned for updates.
> 
> Soundtrack:
> 
> Hooked On A Feeling - Blue Suede
> 
> Saturn - Sleeping At Last
> 
> Friction - Imagine Dragons


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